Brave
by EibonVirgo
Summary: In a world dominated by those of social status, Noa Connors is being poked, prodded, and forced to live up to her elder brother's political prowess. On the eve of her eighteenth birthday, a mysterious murder takes place; Noa's world is turned upside down by an elusive rebellion and Kayden, a man with a mission, a secret, and the way to teach Noa what being brave is all about.


**Hey everyone! This is an original story by mee! Trying something new this time, so bear with me~**

**Enjoy~!**

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I wake to the pale light of day streaming through the white curtains drawn over the window. It is hot, but I am cold and I have kicked the

quilt off of my bed and onto the floor.

For a moment, I ponder falling asleep again. I catch sight of the sun's height in the sky and decide that it is most likely early afternoon; I

should get up now.

The weight of my body falls off of one end of the bed and I heave myself onto my feet, pushing cascades of black curls away from my eyes.

The bathroom mirror is clean and clear—I expect that it has been polished recently. I spill water onto the rough material of a towel and run

it over my face. I feel awake now. I stretch my arms over my head with a yawn, a satisfying popping resonating

between my muscles. I take a moment to glance out into my room before exiting into the kitchen.

"Good afternoon, Miss Connors," a detached, mechanical voice calls. "Your brother has requested you join him at the Senate building as

soon as possible."

Kellyn doesn't often use the Intercom, but the times he does typically mean that I have irritated him. I decide to apologize for sleeping in

once I see him.

"Thank you," I call halfheartedly. I notice the time, which is one-thirty in the afternoon. I only have four hours until the gala!

Energy rockets through my veins and I change as quickly as I can into something I won't mind throwing carelessly on the floor in two hours.

I am grabbing my house key and running into the foyer as the clock reads one-fifty.

I am in time to catch the two 'o clock train uptown, which gives me time to regain my breath. The only other people with me on the train are

a mother and her young daughter.

They are dressed rather casually, which leads me to believe they come from the upper middle ring. I wonder what they are doing on a train going uptown

upper ring. I try not to listen to what she is telling her child, but I end up eavesdropping anyway.

"We're going to the Governor's office," the mother says kindly.

"Why, Momma?" The child cannot be more than four, staring up at her mother with wide brown eyes.

"We're speaking with him about a new job. There are barely any left in our ring."

"Why don't we just go to another ring, Momma?"

"It isn't permitted."

She is right. Her social standing appears too low to move to the upper ring, and too high to move down a ring. My brother has explained the

system to me many times, although I haven't needed an explanation in quite a while. They told us in high school that the fault of where we

lived rested on our ancestors and how they stood in society. It is the same story no matter who tells it.

Long ago, there were many cities and many people, but they fought among themselves and destroyed everything they had built up. Those

who survived built a new city, the place that we live now. To eliminate squabbling among the different citizens of the city, they were separated

by their social classes and placed in different areas of the city.

Those who were well-educated became Governors, one for each ring of the city. My brother Kellyn Governs the middle ring, designated for

middle-class citizens. We live in the upper ring, designated for upper class citizens who live well and work as politicians, doctors, or lawyers. A

ring down from us is the upper middle ring, then the middle ring, and finally the lower ring on the edge of the city.

Each ring has one governor and five lieutenants to manage crime, sickness, famine, postal service, and education. In turn, there are many

policemen, doctors, artisans, and other workers who operate under each of the five lieutenants. They all answer to the President, the person

to choose who administers to the Governors and the people. Currently our President is James Tundra, who is an aging man with piercing

green eyes. I want to listen to them speak again, but the train crawls to a stop in the station and I must exit onto the platform.

The ground outside of the Senate building is faultless and lined with mosaics. The building outside is tall and a tasteful champagne color,

lined with rows of perfectly square hedges with perfect green leaves. Two guards stand outside in crisp black uniforms and shiny gold badges

boasting their ranks. They recognize me and step aside to let me into the building, which is equally as grand on the inside as it is on the

outside.

The elevator is down the first hallway to the right, which is a gold-colored marble that makes the room cool even on the hottest of days.

Kellyn's office is on the fifth level with a window overlooking the entire city, with the smog of the lower ring in the distance. I knock before

I enter, because Kellyn is a stickler for manners.

"I'm so late," I lament. "Sorry, Kellyn..."

He turns in his chair to look at me and laughs. "You should consider becoming more reserved, Noa."

"I'm sorry," I say again as he motions for me to sit down.

Kellyn and I look alike, sharing our dark hair and unusually light complexions. The only difference between us is that he inherited my

mother's brown eyes, while I received my father's blue ones. Although it is easy to see that we are siblings, Kellyn and I have a few noticeable

differences besides our eye color that set us apart.

Kellyn is built tall and strong with a broad chest and shoulders, his hair straight and his demeanor naturally militant. I, on the other hand,

am small and particularly thin with a mess of wild curly hair that I can't bear to tame on some days. I can be clumsy and immature at times,

even though I am eighteen years old.

"The gala is tonight," he says, glancing out the window.

"I know," I reply. My tone must give away that I am not excited, because Kellyn sighs and looks at me scoldingly.

"It'll be fun," he promises.

"I don't want a husband," I protest.

"You're only searching for a _potential_ husband."

"I don't see why it's so important."

"It's a tradition. Mother did it when she was eighteen, and that's where she met Father."

I stay silent, because I know Kellyn likes to be right and arguing with him will do me no good.

"Now then," he says. "From the sight of your hair, I should guess that you ran here without looking in the mirror."

"Ugh!" I groan, rapidly running my fingers through my hair.

Kellyn laughs once more and picks up the phone, which I didn't hear ring. He turns to the window and begins to chat lightly with whoever is on the other end

about the stocks.

I love my brother, but he is far too serious. Everything must be done a certain way and it must be done exactly right. Otherwise, he makes it seem as though

the world will fall out of balance. I would rather die than go to the gala and pick a husband, but Kellyn might die himself if I don't.

I pick apart my messy hair and untangle it carefully, trying not to think about it. I attempt to be optimistic. Maybe I will fall in love tonight, just like my mother

did so long ago.

Suddenly, Kellyn is shaking me out of my trance, and it is time for us to leave the Senate building. I follow him at a close distance, the top of my head nearly

touching his shoulder.

The impressive-looking guards stand aside as we leave, and someone has pulled a long black car up to the sidewalk. The Governors always travel in luxury. I

prefer to go by train like everyone else.

"I sent away for your gown last week," Kellyn tells me. "It should have arrived by now."

"I didn't check," I say.

"I don't expect you to do your hair by yourself," he teases, and I cross my arms defensively.

"I am perfectly capable."

"Nevertheless, I've sent for someone to handle that as well." Kellyn sits back in his seat, waiting patiently.

It is a moment before I realize what he wants. "Thank you," I mumble.

"You're welcome."

We arrive back at the house only moments later. It is a lovely place where Kellyn and I grew up. The building itself is three stories and made from a tan mortar

with ivy and roses crawling up the walls. An oak tree shades it from harsh sunlight. Kellyn and I inherited it from our father, who was Governor before Kellyn.

He died many years ago, as did my mother. We remember them every year on All Saint's Day.

I reach for my house key as we approach the door, but Kellyn has already opened it and is examining a long box.

"Go take a shower," he suggests. "I'll leave this on your bed."

I comply wordlessly and trudge upstairs to my room, which is on the third floor. Kellyn's room is down the hall from mine.

I strip down and wash myself from head to toe, aware that the way I will look tonight will directly correlate to the suitors I attract as well as my social standing

for years to come. I've always thought of it as a somewhat shallow way of surviving, but I have never complained.

When I am done, I smell like a flower. I feel as though it will be pleasing to other people, although the scent overwhelms me to a sickly extent.

I peek into my room; Kellyn has left the dress on the bed, and I think this may be more of a pain than I initially expected.

The dress falls to the floor and is a typical Baroque style, plain black and trimmed with gilded leaves. I'm not tall, so I worry about tripping over the skirt. Grace

is something expected of a Governor's relative, especially his siblings, but it is something I do not have.

Despite the way the dress looks, it is strangely cool and comfortable when I slide it onto my body. I feel a bit more at ease as I descend to the first floor. Kellyn

has already dressed into a nice black suit and a gold tie. I notice that our color schemes match.

"You look nice," I say.

"You as well," he replies.

There is a woman in the kitchen with straight blonde hair and dark red lipstick who does my hair. I admire how expertly she deals with it, weighing my hair in

her hands and then twisting it into a graceful knot atop my head. I wish I could deal with it that easily. She slides a black pencil over my eyelid and dusts the

lashes with a fine gold powder.

I feel stiff and unlike myself, but Kellyn seems satisfied which means I have less to worry about. It is four thirty when another long black car pulls up and Kellyn

ushers me inside.

There is a banquet hall in the Senate building, which is where the gala will be. I would much rather sit at home and draw, but I have certain expectations to live

up to and I mustn't disappoint my brother.

All of the guests are richly dressed and seem as though they were born with their noses turned up. No one else wears black besides me and Kellyn, which

draws attention to us. I despise attention, especially from those who will judge me by the way I appear.

There is a classy sort of air to the gala, classical music wafting through the banquet hall and the smell of champagne in the air. I am not very used to classy

things. I move to stay in a corner where my black dress will blend into shadow, but a young man with pale blonde hair and brown eyes catches my hand and

asks me to dance. He is noticeably pretty. Out of politeness, I let him pull me onto the space people are dancing in.

I don't know the waltz, but I follow him in hopes that he does.

"My name is Damien," he tells me smoothly.

"I'm Noa," I say.

"Governor Connors is your brother, correct?"

"That's right." I am about to ask him what he likes to do when he continues on the subject of my brother.

"You do look alike... Perhaps I could meet him sometime?"

"...o-of course... Do you, er, have any hobbies?"

"I don't typically have time for one. I'm studying to go to law school."

"That's... Nice."

"And you?"

"I'm an artist," I say. "I also practice in gymnastics..."

"You aren't going to follow your brother in politics?"

"He wants me to, but I'm not sure my heart's in it."

"_Oh_."

I feel like he is silently judging me for the rest of our dance, so I dismiss myself as soon as I find the opportunity. There are people that stare at me as I walk

away from Damien, and I want to shrink into the nearest wall.

_Don't look at me, don't look at me..._

I feel like I'm really brandishing a sign that says "look at me, look!" Kellyn doesn't know how much I hate attention, but if I did tell him, he may 'try to fix it' by

sticking me in front of thousands of people and seeing what happens next. It is better if I keep quiet about it and keep leading him on that I know how to be

social.

There is a young man with dark hair and eyes who stares at me from across the room. I feel a bit uncomfortable and he suddenly he approaches me, offering a

hand. "Noa Connors, is it?" he asks.

I nod tentatively.

"Delighted. I'm Joseph Silva. Care to dance?"

I nod again and he pulls me onto the dance floor.

His voice is smooth and deep; I want to fall asleep listening to it. "I'm studying to become a doctor," he says.

"You must be very intelligent," I say.

"I like to think so. Tell me, what do you aspire to do?"

"I'm not sure yet. There are so many things I could do."

"With your brother a Governor, I expected you to desire taking after him."

"I'm not very political," is my excuse.

"I see," he says.

Joseph doesn't talk to me again until he bids me goodbye.

Why is everyone expecting me to become the new Kellyn? What if I want to do something else? The social aspects of my life are beginning to take a toll on my

self-esteem.

I meet three other young men throughout the next hour.

One is tall and lanky with plain brown hair and eyes who seems to enjoy talking about

himself. He doesn't seem to care about my dislike of politics, but I cannot stand how fast  
he talks.

The second is only slightly taller than me with ash colored hair and ochre eyes. He barely speaks at all, and when he does I cannot hear him at all. However, he

hears me when I tell him I don't want my brother's job and almost immediately dismisses himself.

The last is handsome with caramel colored skin and perfectly white teeth, but is only interested in 'reproducing,' as he puts it. I excuse myself to the restroom

to escape from him.

I am not having much luck with men tonight. I move to look for Kellyn, to tell him that I'm not finding anyone I am interested in. There is a hopeful part of my

mind that thinks Kellyn will let me go home, but it is a gross overestimate of what probably will happen.

I see a tall dark figure among the guests, and assuming it is Kellyn, I move through the people towards him. I haven't seen him all night. As I get closer, I

realize that, whoever I am looking at, it isn't my brother.

Someone shoves me from behind and I trip over my skirt. "Ouch!"

The man who catches me is definitely not my brother.

He is tall and athletic and wears black like Kellyn and me; his bronze hair is slicked back and there is a mask over his face. Piercing green eyes examine me

through it. My first thought is that he must be incredibly handsome behind that mask, while the second is that he appears a bit too old to be at a party that

signals a girl's coming of age.

He smiles charmingly, but there is a bite of sarcasm in the way his lips curve upward. "Thanks for dropping in."

I'm far too curious to blush or stutter like anyone else my age would. "Aren't you a bit old to be at a party like this?"

"You're never too old to have a good time," he replies, setting me onto my feet.

"Thank you for catching me, I suppose," I mumble.

"You're a little too polite, cutie," he says with a smile that is sexy and warns of trouble.

There is a dimple in his right cheek. "Don't let people use that to take advantage of you."

He is tall and easily recognizable, but I lose sight of him almost immediately. It's almost as if he's faded into thin air.

I still haven't found Kellyn, which is odd because he has always enjoyed being around guests at a party.

I am still looking for him when another young man decides to introduce himself to me, a well-built blonde with icy blue eyes. His name is Michael, and I think he is very nice.

"I'm not very good in school," he tells me. "I'm better at working with my hands."

"Really? Me too. What's your favorite thing to do?"

"I'm fond of art and music."

I don't know much about music, but art strikes a chord with me. "I like to draw," I say hopefully.

"That's cool," he says. "Do you have a favorite style?"

"Realism is nice. Recreating something that exists in reality is the greatest thing."

"I enjoy abstract works."

"That's good."

I'm thinking that I like Michael, that maybe I could learn to like him as a lover, when someone screams and the party comes to a halt.

My brother streaks down the stairs in his nice black suit and politely asks for my hand from Michael's, then ushers me out of the banquet hall and outside,

where the long black car waits for us.

"Kellyn, what's going on?" I ask. "What's wrong?"

His face is white, as though he's seen a ghost. I have never seen my brother look as terrified as he does right now. "M...Murder," he chokes out. "Someone

murdered Dante..."

I can see Dante's face in my mind. Weathered by years and crinkled by smile lines, brown hair stuck unkemptly to his forehead and black eyes friendly. Dante

was my father's lieutenant, in charge of the law enforcement in the middle ring where Kellyn now controls. He has been a companion to my family for years, and

someone has killed him.

I didn't even know Dante was at the party.

"I was there. I saw," Kellyn stutters. "Someone shot a gun and he fell..."

"D-Did you see who did it?" I ask.

"No."

The shock hits me now. I didn't realize it before. I know Kellyn is taking responsibility, that he thinks it is his fault...

I narrow my eyebrows in displeasure and turn on the radio in the backseat. I wanted music, something to soothe me, but the news is on.

_"...unsure whether the Rebels have targeted anyone else—"  
__  
_

Kellyn turns the radio off without looking at me.

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**I hope you all enjoyed! This is an original story by me, about a different sort of civilization that is run by social status and income, therefore splitting all of the citizens in the city by the way that they act. Noa is the main character, who wants to break from the usual and be something society is not forcing upon her. It's a little slow in the beginning, but it speeds up by chapter three. Maybe if I get enough feedback, I'll post the next few chapters :)\**

**Anyways, thanks for reading!**

**See ya ;D**

**-Eibon**


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